


I'm High but I'm Grounded

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ??? - Freeform, AH YES, Coran an Allura are briefly mentioned, Hunk is also briefly mentioned, I didn't write them that way ignore the caps, I don't know how I feel about the sex scene . . ., I said I would write it and I did, Keith is awkward but hey what else is new right, Like, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, OH WAIT NO, PINING KEITH, Pining everybody alright? everybody's pining for everyone else, Sin What Sin, Space Gays, Tada, Yayyy, and all the creativity went fizzing away!, and then I got to the smut, anyway, because some of them are now in caps, but that's kinda it for them, enjoy! hopefully!, for some reason, like I was whizing along, memory . . . container . . . thing? ?????, or is it Gays in Space?, pining lance, pining shiro, pretend they're lower case okay?, sigh, small memory scene of Keith/Lance being cute, smex, so I'm editing these tags, the only sin here is how long it took me, these three idiots are the only ones who show up, they're idiots, uh, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 19:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12372138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Hi I don't know why it kept the gibberish. that was for a test. Sorry! *runs away*





	1. Flirt

Keith stared from his position on the couch, mouth set in a befuddled line as he watched his boyfriend (honestly, Lance should have seen them getting together from miles away ― all that “rivalry” denial got in the way, maybe. That was probably it. Lance, why) and his best friend talk to each other. It was easy, charged, and Keith didn’t think either of them realized what they were actually doing was not _talking,_ it was _flirting,_ and it was slowly driving Keith nuts with how oblivious they both were. He closed his eyes tiredly, trying to blink away the weariness from their last mission; the Blade of Marmora had asked for assistance with intercepting and looting a Galran cargo ship with important documents. Keith hadn’t really payed attention to what exactly made those documents so important ― he’d been too busy staring at Lance and imagining what they could do to fuck up Galra operations and celebrate (hint, hint, Lance. Nudge, nudge) after. They were interesting sometimes, sure, but you couldn’t really blame Keith for being otherwise occupied these days, could you? Come on ― _look_ at that smile. Just _look._ Look and tell Keith he couldn’t think about anything else. It was amazing. Sure, he was a little jealous that he hadn’t been the one to put that smile on Lance’s face, but the little details didn’t matter.  
    . . . . What had he been thinking about again.  
    Oh, yeah, how Shiro and Lance obviously wanted each other but didn’t see it ― any of it. Damn it, they were supposed to be _smarter_ than this. What, did they think they were “not good enough” for the other? Shiro probably thought his scars would turn Lance away, his PTSD, his nightmares (plus the whole stress of having to lead five people into saving THE ENTIRE FUCKING UNIVERSE. Like. Keith was amazed Shiro was still calm and functional, even with all his “patience yields focus” stuff). Lance probably thought Shiro didn’t like that his mouth would run on autopilot when he was overwhelmed, how he had almost no brain-to-mouth filter and everything came splooshing out like a waterfall (Lance himself had said that in the middle of a fight and it took every ounce of willpower Keith had to not drag him to their room and fuck that stupid notion the fuck out of his head. _Fuck_ that stupid fucking sentiment). Or how he didn’t seem to take much seriously, always making light of every situation.  
    Jesus. Why did Keith choose the most insecure people he’d ever met?  
    Oh yeah, Lance was an incredible person (in bed, WINK, WINK, LANCE. And in the Blue lion. And around other people, especially little kids. Was that a thing from his big family? Probably. And in hand-combat. And as a sharpshooter, of course. And Keith could go on for days, but this was him digressing from the point) and Shiro had been there since for-fucking-ever. He was kind of a no-brainer.  
    Keith opened his eyes again just in time to hear peals of laughter and see Shiro and Lance doubling over at something. He blinked in confusion. He opened his mouth to ask what was up, but then stopped, choosing instead to just . . . watch. Watch them being happy. Watch them being easy. Watch them being _together._ His throat closed up, and Keith closed his eyes again. They were just so . . . . Fuck. They were always in each other’s space, the way he and Lance would be, and it looked so natural. It was so . . . . It was like the three of them were soulmates, except two of them hadn’t gotten the message, so they were still waiting for it to conk them over the heads.  
    He wanted that. Not ― not necessarily the head conking, although that was probably gonna be a thing (figurative or not), but he wanted them. He wanted them to know they all wanted. And maybe he could . . .  
    Keith jolted up from the couch, startling the other two Paladins. “Keith?” Shiro looked over, his gaze concerned. Lance was frowning worriedly, too, his lips pursed slightly. They ― shit, how were they not all dating already? This had to be remedied. As soon as possible. Now. With this brilliant idea that popped into Keith’s head that probably wouldn’t shove their feelings in each others’ faces ― yeah, okay, it would do just that. “What’s wrong?”  
    “Nothing,” Keith said distractedly, “nothing, I just ― an idea I wanna try out. I’ll be right back. Actually, no,” he turned in the doorway and rested his hand on the frame. “I’ll call you guys later.” Then he turned on his heel and marched off.  
  
The first time they flirted, Keith was only in the room for the last bit of it. He’d walked in, wanting to ask if either of them had seen Coran (who had asked to see him later and then walked off with no explanation), and found them leaning in close, suggestive smiles. He’d stood in the doorway for a second or so, watching them not do anything and wondering why not. They’d jumped apart as soon as he spoke, although they looked like they hadn’t realized what they were doing.  
    Listen, Keith was all for being loyal, but the way he saw it, if you like more than one person, than go for more than one person.  Yeah, work stuff out with them, but if they’re cool with it, than you should be cool with it. Doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that.  
    . . . It probably was, though, since Keith had no idea _how_ to talk about stuff like that (or at least, he had no idea how to start talking about stuff like that), so he kept waiting for one of them to bring it up, and they never did, so he kept waiting, and they kept being oblivious, and the cycle never ended. Unless this plan would work. Which it should.  
  
~|§|~  
  
Lance was staring at the doorway, his eyebrows scrunched together. “What do you think that was about?”  
    Shiro shook his head. “I don’t know. I think it’s okay, though, his ideas don’t usually have so much exploding parts.” At Lance’s alarmed expression, Shiro added hastily, “It was only once!”  
    “What was so explosive?” Lance paused and considered the question. “Do I really want to know?”  
    “In all honesty,” Shiro sighed, “probably not.” He glanced at Lance, hoping the other wouldn’t notice. Was he being too obvious? “It wasn’t very pleasant.”  
    Lance huffed out a laugh, grinning up at him and shaking his head. “Whatever, man. I’ll take your word for it.” The Blue Paladin cast one last look at the tablet Shiro was holding before stretching and jumping onto the couch, unwittingly hiking the bottom of his shirt up and exposing skin. Shiro’s mouth went dry, and he shook his head to clear it. _Focus,_ he reminded himself. Lance and Keith were together. He wasn’t supposed to ogle someone who was taken. For a second, Shiro couldn’t stop himself from imagining what it’d be like if he didn’t have to keep his eyes (and hands) to himself, if he could glomp onto Lance whenever he wanted, or Keith, for that matter. If he could just feel Lance up whenever he wanted and not worry about ruining anything. _What would Keith think?_ He scolded. _You’re his best friend. You’re supposed to have his back, not think about stealing his boyfriend. And maybe him. Them. Together. In the bedroom. And_ ― no, _bad Shiro. Bad._  
    “Hey, big guy?”  
    Shiro blinked, brought back from his thoughts with a rush. “Uh, yeah?”  
    Lance gave him a weird look. “You sure Keith’s not the only one . . . off? You kinda disappeared on me for a second there, bro.”  
    Shiro managed a smile. “Nah, I’m fine. Just lost in my head.” _Thinking about you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I don't know why it kept the gibberish. that was for a test. Sorry! *runs away*


	2. Touch

Keith sighed, running a hand through his hair. _I really hope this works._  
    He’d run around for a while, trying to find Coran (or Allura, she probably knew just as much as Coran since she was Altean, but he didn’t run into her. Which was kind of weird, but he wasn’t going to question it at this point because fuck questioning anything, right) to do the memory-storage thing they’d tried with Sendak. He remembered Coran saying something about it only having been done with willing participants, so he was pretty confident in that regard. The older Altean was suddenly nowhere to be found (or more accurately, nowhere in clear sight), however, so when Keith finally _did_ find him, he didn’t have much patience for explaining what he wanted to do. It was almost as if Coran knew when he was being looked for and decided to make it a stupid game of hide-and-seek where he’d scuttle just out of view with a giggle. Then, when Keith finally got him, he acted like he didn’t know what Keith was talking about AND IT WAS REALLY FRUSTRATING. Anyway. He got Coran to help him with the memory storage thingiemabobber, though Coran got distracted by the mice before he could explain how, exactly, Keith was supposed to operate it. Although, Coran had this habit of assuming that Keith would get what he was talking about, even with all his talk about “inferior human brains” and whatnot, so . . . that might have been true in this case, too. Whatever. Keith was sure they could figure it out. Y’know, eventually. ‘Cause they were smart people, okay? Especially for people with “inferior brains,” and Keith wasn’t even entirely human, so there (he may or may not be just a little bit bitter about Coran’s superiority thing. Just a little teensy bit).  
    “Keith?”  
    He turned at Lance calling his name quietly, and smiled at the loves of his life. Shiro had that curious tilt to his head, like a puppy hearing something new, and Keith was internally dying from that because ― how? How could anyone be that cute? It was illegal. It was a big universe, somewhere there had to be a law against anyone being so damn _cute._ Somewhere, Keith was convinced that was a thing. And Lance ― Lance was breathtakingly beautiful, with his chocolate hair and cinnamon skin and blue eyes and he was _gorgeous._ “Hey,” Keith managed. His voice sounded croaky. Did he sound croaky to them?  
    Apparently yes, because they simultaneously took a step forward, Lance with a small noise of concern. “You okay?” Shiro asked, gunmetal eyes soft. He reached forward a little, probably unconsciously, but it still made Keith’s heart go _pitter-pat-pat._ Like it was doing its own little fucking tap dance of joy, singing on bended knee (if hearts could have knees) to the sky, what the fuck was he spouting now?  
    Keith nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, just ― I’m fine.” He looked down and hefted the little jar in his hands. It wasn’t actually a jar, according to Coran, but it looked like a jar, it acted like a jar, and so Keith was calling it a jar. It was full of soft, glowing blue light, like with the memories of King Alfor (or ― Keith was pretty sure Allura had said the memories of her father was basically a container that looked like it was full of glowy blue light, so Keith assumed this was what everyone’s memories were supposed to look like). These were his, though, his memories of Lance and Shiro pining. Keith himself pining, too, for Lance before they got together, and for Shiro since forever. As well as Keith and Lance being together. Just . . . together.  
    “What’s that?” Lance stepped closer, peering at the jar curiously. “It’s pretty, but I don’t really get it―”  
    “Lance?” Keith interrupted. When Lance looked up from the jar to meet his gaze, Keith swallowed around the lump in his throat and continued. “You know I love you, right?” Lance frowned, but nodded. “I really do love you, both of you. But sometimes you’re both colossal idiots. So, um . . . . Here.” He thrust the jar at Lance. “Unscrew it. Or just hold it. I-I don’t know, Coran didn’t really specify what you’re supposed to do.”  
    “But . . . what is it?” Shiro had come closer, too, inevitably giving in to his curiosity.  
    “My memories. Of, uh . . . of you two. Us.”  
    Shiro immediately looked congested and intrigued at the same time, and Keith barely suppressed the giggle crawling up his throat. Lance, on the other hand, looked even more like a puppy than Shiro had earlier ― Keith could practically see the ears perked up in interest on the Blue Paladin’s head. And yeah, Lance looked a little apprehensive, but it was mostly interest. And he could go with that. He offered the jar again, heart beating crazily, and waited with bated breath as Lance took it from his hands with a smile.  
  
                                                                                                                   ~|§|~  
  
When Lance took the jar from Keith, he expected ― well, he was expecting a big show of lights and some dramatic-sounding music, if he was going to be honest, but that was not what happened. Nothing did, actually, for a few moments, Keith steadily getting redder and redder until he grabbed Shiro’s hand (the Galra one) and slapped it on the jar.  
    “Keith, I don’t think―” Shiro started. He was interrupted by the jar glowing brighter, and a soft _whoom._ When Lance blinked (he’d been staring a little too hard at the jar, the light was painful), the room was . . . well, still the room, but there were duplicates of himself and Keith on the bed. Lance flushed, thinking this was a memory where _things_ (insert wiggly eyebrows/lenny face) happened and Shiro would be there would to see it all, but . . . it was just them sitting together, Keith’s head resting on his chest and a content smile on his face. Memory-Lance was smiling, too, though if Lance was remembering the right night, he’d been laughing at his own joke. Or his family’s shenanigans. There’d been a lot of talking about families that night.  
    “There’s no sound,” Lance noticed.  
    As if those words were the cue, Memory-Lance burst into laughter at Memory-Keith’s sleepy whapping. “You’re like a lazy cat, with lasers,” Memory-Lance teased, grabbing Memory-Keith’s hands and folding them across the Red Paladin’s chest. Memory-Keith just grunted and shrugged, uncaring about the comparison. Another lazy smile crossed his face as Memory-Lance rubbed his thumbs across the backs of Memory-Keith’s hands.  
    “Keith.”  
    When Lance turned away from the memory, Shiro’s expression looked . . . fake. Yeah, he was smiling, but it looked forced, and there was something really sad under it (Lance would know; he’d made that exact same face many times, no matter how much Keith told him he didn’t need to). “I don’t think . . .” Shiro trailed off, glancing to the side dejectedly. “I don’t get why I’m here. This is just for you two, isn’t it? I―”  
    “Shiro,” Keith interrupted firmly, letting go of the jar (and making the memory fade away) and stepping forward. “Shut up.” And then he made sure Shiro did just that, grabbing his shirt and pulling him in to kiss him. Lance may or may not have squeaked. He definitely did not almost drop the jar, catch it, and look back up again to gawk at his boyfriend and his best friend making out. Definitely not. Good lord, that was insanely hot.


	3. Taste

_Keith. Spit. Food goo (that Hunk had tried to redeem, but didn’t get very far in) from their latest meal. Something that tasted a lot like chocolate (did Keith sneak the last treat from Ula’di? The little fucker, he totally did, he said Coran had the last one! They were candies! That they barely ever got! And he kept the last one for himself! That little―) and mint. Keith._  
    Before Shiro could fully realize that Keith had just KISSED HIM OUT OF NOWHERE, the jerk pulled away and kissed Lance, too. Lance, who made a noise of surprise before closing his eyes and leaning into it, sighing like he’d been born kissing Keith.  
    Then Keith (the little FUCKING FUCKER they didn’t get candies often!) turned them around  and shoved Lance against him ( _AAAAAAAAAAA_ went his brain) so Keith could open his eyes to stare at Shiro, a hint of a smirk in them. That was all Shiro could see, now; Keith staring with those fiery, smoking eyes that felt like a whole tidal wave of emotions ― exasperation. Fondness. Love. Want. Lust. Shiro’s mouth went as dry as a desert.  
  
                                                                                                                       ~|§|~  
  
 _Keith. Spit. Food goo (look, Lance loved the guy, but Hunk really needed to work on convincing Coran into letting him cook WAY MORE OFTEN, because food goo every day was not as fun as it sounded) from earlier. The last candy they’d split between them as Keith smirked about hiding it under his bed (oh, could Shiro taste it too? Would he be mad? Did it even matter?). Bland toothpaste. Keith._  
    Keith kissed Lance just like he’d kissed Shiro; intense, full of heat and passion, but disappointingly short. The kind of kiss he usually used when he thought Lance was being stupid and insecure. The kiss that said _I’m fucking that concept out of your brain now, idiot that I love (for some reason I can’t fathom)._ When Keith pulled away, Lance bit his lip, but waited for whatever Keith was about to say. He glanced back at Shiro; he didn’t know what kind of kiss that was, he didn’t know what they were in for, but would Keith even be able to hold Shiro down like he did Lance? How was that going to work? He looked back at Keith, hoping for an explanation, but what he got was a crash of feelings; exasperation. Fondness. Love. Want. Lust. Lance’s brain short-circuited as he decided that meh, it really didn’t matter if Keith could hold Shiro down or not. Everyone in this room was going to be fucked some way or another.  
  
                                                                                                                        ~|§|~  
  
 _Shiro. Spit. Food goo from earlier. The toothpaste they’d found somewhere that was safe for humans, according to Pidge and Coran. Something that tasted faintly of Hunk’s almost-coffee. Unfamiliarity. Shiro._  
 _Lance. Spit. Food goo, again. Their shared candy from Ula’di (heh, that was probably driving Shiro crazy). More of the almost-coffee. Lance’s toothpaste (Keith still had no idea how Lance managed to make it taste like strawberries, or where he kept getting it from, but whatever). Familiarity. Lance._  
    Keith sighed against Lance’s lips, biting the bottom for good measure, and pulled away. From the gob-smacked expressions on both Lance and Shiro’s faces, they’d gotten the message. Or, part of it, at least.  
    “I don’t―” Keith’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat to start over. “I don’t really know how to talk about this sort of thing. But ― I’ve been watching you guys watch each other for the longest time, and want each other, and not _doing_ anything about it, so I thought―” He raked a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I just ― I just wanted everyone to stop being stupid and see we all want each other. Like, stupid levels of want. I mean, Shiro’s been staring at Lance with this look of unadulterated desire all the time, and Lance has been watching Shiro like he’s the only one in the room, and it’s driving me crazy! So . . .” Keith gulped in a breath and swallowed hard. “I like you, Lance. I love you. I love you, Shiro. And you two love each other, so can’t we just . . .” He trailed off, uncertain how to keep going. “I’m tired of waiting for you two.”


	4. Fuck

Shiro couldn’t see straight. He couldn’t think straight (heh), either, but he was willing to bet it had a lot to do with the fact that he watching Lance suck Keith off like he gagging for it. They’d all shed their clothes, too busy thinking _oh my god, these people want me as much as I want them, fuck communication right now!_ And yeah, Shiro had imagined seeing them naked hundreds of times, but it had almost never been with them together, like this. The fantasies had definitely never given their bodies the justice they deserved, either. _Fuuuck._ Welp. There went Shiro’s brain. It was (and always would be) a puddle of mushy, horny drool, now.  
    Keith flicked his eyes up to meet Shiro’s gaze, and scratch that previous sentence ― Shiro’s brain had not only become a puddle of drool, it’d been fucking evaporated in laser gun shots and the ground underneath it was charred. As if sensing Shiro’s frustration (or just hearing the impatient whine that Shiro would deny in coming days to have ever happened), Keith smirked. A slow, lazy, predatory thing that made Shiro shiver. He wasn’t tied up, there hadn’t been enough time to talk about stuff like that, but Keith had sternly told him, pushing him to sit at the foot of the bed, to _Stay still, babe. You’ll get your turn._ And then proceeded to let Lance climb all over him desperately before finally sinking down to blow him. And Shiro had to fucking stay still. Goddammit. Curse Shiro and his penchant for following orders.  
    “Lance,” Keith murmured, and it sounded like it was punched out of him ― _holy shit what did Lance think he was doing._ “That’s it, stretch yourself for us. Can’t wait to see Shiro pounding your thirsty ass, hear you moaning and begging for it like the little slut you are ― hnn. Like that idea? Like the idea of fucking me and being fucked, a ― hah ― fucking human sandwich.” There was a laugh in Keith’s voice.  
    Lance pulled off Keith’s dick with a wet pop, and judging by Keith’s amused grin, he was giving the Red Paladin his kitten glare. “Tell me you didn’t do that on purpose, because that was a horrible play of words.”  
    “I didn’t do that on purpose,” Keith said dutifully. His hands were entangled in Lance’s hair, fingers rubbing back and forth slowly. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something?”  
    Lance grumbled, but went back to his job. Keith sighed, letting his head rest against the wall and meeting Shiro’s gaze dead-on. “What about you, Shiro?” he said conversationally. “what do you think of that idea ― nngh. Bet you’d like seeing me an’ Lance at our w-wits end, begging for release. I’m pretty sure we’ve got a cockring somewhere, y-you could tie Lance up n’ fuck me into oblivion, get it off him n’ do the ― huhh ― same to _Lance!”_ The last word was rushed out, his hands curling harder in Lance’s hair. Shiro growled, inching forward, his hands on his knees twitching. “Fuck,” Keith hissed, throwing his head back against the wall with a _thwump._ “Lance, yes, _Lance,_ ohgodthere ― ah!”  
    Lance pulled off again, turning to face Shiro. His pupils were blown wide, a barely-there ring of blue around black, his lips red and spit-soaked and fuck Shiro was gonna die if he couldn’t fuck him in the next two seconds. “Fuck me,” Lance gasped, echoing Shiro’s train of thought. “C’mon, we’re ready, just _fuck me_ already Shiro, please―”  
    Shiro surged up, grabbing Lance’s arm and yanking him back to kiss him. Lance was pliant under him, sinking into him and scratching at his back pleadingly. He gasped when their rock-hard dicks rubbed together, bucking his hips up into Shiro’s for more friction. Keith groaned, something squelching under his voice. Shiro caught a glimpse of his arm moving back and forth and _wait, when did Lance pass him the lube?_ Lance whimpered, his hands coming around to cup Shiro’s face as they lay down. “Shiro,” he gasped when they pulled apart.  
    “Shiro,” Keith echoed. “He needs to ― nn ― turn around.” Shiro looked up. Keith huffed out a laugh, his face twisting as his fingers crooked again. “He’s gotta fuck me, remember?”  
    “Fine,” Shiro rumbled, relishing their twin blushes at his voice. As soon as Lance had turned, Shiro grabbed Keith’s knees and yanked him down the bed without any preamble. Keith went down with a yelp, his free hand whacking the bed to get some balance.  
    “Hey,” Lance said a little breathlessly, no doubt grinning at the man under him.  
    “Hey yourself,” Keith replied, his own grin lighting up his entire face. “I heard there was gonna be fucking?”  
    Lance snorted, ducking his head and nuzzling Keith’s neck, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Keith grinned harder at Shiro, waggling his eyebrows. It was Shiro’s turn to laugh, smoothing Keith’s hair. “I thought Lance was supposed to be the one making bad jokes in bed,” Shiro teased.  
    “Hey!”  
    “Oh, that’s both of us,” Keith assured him, petting Lance’s shoulder reassuringly. “We take turns being corny, sappy idiots. Or we’ll both be sappy, if the situation’s right.”  
    Shiro hummed thoughtfully. “What would that situation be?”  
    Keith shrugged. “Eh.”  
    “Guys,” Lance complained. “Like Keith said, wasn’t the end goal sex?”  
    “True,” Shiro agreed, deepening his voice to a rumble again, just to see them shiver. “How do you two want this?”  
    In lieu of an answer, Keith kissed Lance. A second later, there were groans from both of them and Lance’s hips jerked under Shiro. “Fuck,” Keith mumbled. “C’mon, Lance, more, I can take it ― _there!_ Fuck, Lance―”  
    “He’s so warm,” Lance groaned, nipping at Keith’s shoulder. “Fuck, Shiro, it’s amazing. Mnngh―” Lance turned his head to kiss Shiro. It was more chaste than the others, less tongue and nipping, but it was just as good. God, Shiro had millions more kisses like this to look forward to, and that was _amazing._ When they pulled back, Lance pretty much growled “just fuck me already, Shiro,” against his lips.  
    And with a shuddering sigh, Shiro did.  
    “He likes it rough,” Keith gasped as Shiro was pushing in slowly, gently. “Fuck, we both do, just ram in ― ah!”  
    Shiro grunted, taking Keith’s advice and shoving in as hard and fast as he could, making them both keen. “Lance,” Shiro said, leaning down and kissing his shoulder blades. “Lance, fuck, you’re so good for me.”  
  
                                                                                                                         ~|§|~  
  
Lance was slowly losing his mind.  
    Underneath him, Keith had his mouth open in a blissful O and his eyes closed. One of his hands was braced against the headboard and the other was tangled up in Lance’s. He was so warm and tight around him, his hips moving as best as they could to get more friction for both of them. Sharp gasps and small, bitten-off moans kept falling from his mouth until he bit his bottom lip and opened his eyes. They were hazy and blown-out, but Lance could see the love Keith felt for both him and Shiro in them, and it sent his heart racing like crazy.  
    Above him, Shiro was nipping and kissing and licking at his back lovingly, grunting softly with every long, slow drag over Lance’s prostate. His hands were firm and heavy on his hips, leaving him helpless to the pace Shiro wanted, which was torturously slow. He kept murmuring, too, endearments of how Lance was taking him so well, how Keith was a genius, how beautiful they both were, and Lance couldn’t _think._  
    “Shiro,” he whimpered, trying to buck up for more. “Please ― c’mon, please, I need it!”  
    Keith whined in agreement, taking his hand away from the board and whacking at Shiro’s Galra arm. “Dammit, Takashi,” he wheezed. “What’re you tryin’ to do, drive us insane? Torture us ‘til we can’t think, ‘cause if that’s the case, you are _fuck_ ing succeeding ― ah!”  
    Apparently, Shiro didn’t need much goading, because he bit Lance’s ear on a snarl and slammed his hips down, dragging moans from both of them. Lance squeezed Keith’s hand and scratched at the sheets. If Shiro’s pace before had felt torturous, now it left him wrecked open. In desperation, he latched onto Keith, swallowing his moans as Keith did the same for him. It didn’t help much; Lance was still helpless to the feeling of being relentlessly battered, to Shiro’s mouth all along his shoulders and the back of his neck, to the feeling of Keith clenching around him.  
    “Lookit you two,” Shiro growled against Lance’s back. Lance arched back with a cry, only to be pushed back down onto Keith again. “So pretty, so good for me. I’ve got myself two little sluts, don’t I? So eager for it, begging not even a minute in” ( _Huh,_ Lance thought dazedly, _his timing is off_ ) “screaming for it, even. Does it feel that good, being taken apart by my dick, Lance?” Lance nearly choked on his own spit when Shiro rammed into his prostate, keening and biting Keith’s shoulder instinctually.  
    Keith was in no better shape, writhing and scratching at Lance’s back, trying to get his legs around them both. His hand was back on the headboard, and Lance got the feeling if it weren’t Keith’s head would be slamming into it. Wait, maybe Keith was in better shape ‘cause he was―  
    “That’s it, c’mon,” Keith said in a hiss, “harder ― Shiro, fuck, _Lance_ ― ohmygod! Nngh, r-right there, Lance!” He surged up, clenching and kissing Lance desperately, whimpering under his breath. The kiss was full of teeth clacking against each other, panting, tongue, but Lance chased it just as desperately as Keith.  
    “I can’t,” Lance gasped when they came apart for air. “C-Can’t, ‘M gonna ― I’m―”  
    “Cum for me, Lance.”  
    Lance screamed as Keith and Shiro spoke the command in unison, his vision whiting out as he came. He must have blacked out, too, because the next thing he saw was Shiro’s chest. His breath caught, and he reached with gentle fingers to trace the plethora of scars crisscrossing and zagging over Shiro’s chest. He’s seen the scars before, in communal showers and such, but they never failed to take his breath away.  
    “He lives,” Keith said behind him. His voice was quiet. He was playing with Lance’s hair, too, rolling little bits of it around his fingers and tugging gently ‘til the strands slipped out of his grip. “You okay, babe?”  
    “Am I okay,” Lance repeated. “I mean . . . .” He sighed and stretched his legs out. “I don’t think I’ve ever passed out like that before. Kind of a blow to the ego, there.”  
    “Mm,” Keith said noncommittally, still quiet. “Shiro’s sleeping, don’t make too much noise. We talked while you were asleep.”  
    Lance swallowed. “‘Bout what? How amazing I am?”  
    Keith swatted his hair, snorting. “No. ‘Bout how . . . how we can work together. All three of us. I mean ― you think we can do that, right? Work?”  
    “Dude, yeah!” Lance said, wincing when Shiro mumbled. “Yeah,” he said again, quieter. “I ― I want to. Have us all be a . . . wait, it wouldn’t be a couple, would it? So, um ― just lovers, then, I guess. I think we can do that.”  
    Keith sighed, sounding relieved, behind him. “That’s good,” he whispered. “I love you.”  
    “I love you, too, Mullethead.”  
    “I love you both,” Shiro rumbled. “Now can we please all sleep?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so it's done! I'm sorry I took so long. I don't know what happened, I was just doodling along and then -- *throws arms up* I had to write in fits and bursts? For some reason? I dunno. But I hope you liked reading it (and that you liked the sex more than I did), and even if you didn't -- thanks for reading anyway!


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